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weren’t likely to belong to customers but to people who’d pulled in for the night. Walmart seemed to welcome travelers, whether they were customers or not.
    Looking down the highway, Rhodes saw the bull. It was a reddish color, maybe a Brangus. Rhodes wasn’t entirely sure. Whatever it was, it was well over a ton of beef on the hoof, and it was ambling along the side of the highway with several people in hot pursuit. One of them was Alton Boyd. Another was Dr. Stanton. Rhodes didn’t recognize the others.
    Boyd was hazing the bull with a lariat, trying to turn it back in the direction of the veterinary clinic. He might as well have been a housefly for all the good he was doing. The bull kept its eyes straight ahead and kept on coming toward the Walmart.
    Rhodes pulled into the parking lot and got out of the county car. He wasn’t sure if he could keep the bull out of the lot, but he could try. A bull in a parking lot wasn’t as bad as a bull in a china shop, but if the bull got in among the cars, it could cause a lot of damage, even to as few cars as there were. Just a good head butt would crumple the sides, and the bull had a pair of horns that could puncture metal. A person who got unlucky could also get punctured, but at the moment Rhodes was the only person in the lot. He hoped he wouldn’t get unlucky.
    Another car parked beside Rhodes, and Jennifer Loam got out. She was blond, smart, and, ever since leaving the local newspaper, the owner of a Web site called A Clear View of Clearview . She was also the site’s reporter, photographer, and webmaster. In her spare time she sold ads. She was dating Andy Shelby, who had promised Rhodes more than once that he wasn’t feeding her news tips. Yet here she was. Someone had passed the word. Since Andy was working the crime scene at the Moore house, Rhodes suspected Hack.
    â€œHey, Sheriff,” Jennifer said. “It’s always something, isn’t it?”
    Rhodes checked to see if she had her little video camera running. She didn’t, but it was right there, ready to go.
    â€œIt’s always something, for sure,” he said. “You’d better stay clear of the bull. You don’t want to get gored.”
    â€œThat’s not in my job description,” she said. “I’m just here to watch and learn.”
    Rhodes didn’t think there would be much learning going on.
    â€œAnd to take some great video, of course,” Jennifer continued. “If anybody gets gored, maybe I can sell it to a network or become an Internet sensation.”
    Rhodes hoped she was kidding, but he didn’t ask. He turned his attention to the bull, which was only about thirty yards away now. It had begun to run, and it outdistanced the pursuers. Alton Boyd had dropped to the back of the pack. Too many cheap cigars.
    A couple of cars on both sides of the road had stopped, and people were recording the chase with their phone cameras. If Jennifer didn’t get anything good, someone else might.
    â€œWhat’s your plan?” Jennifer asked Rhodes, turning her camera on him.
    â€œI don’t have one,” Rhodes said. “I’ve never been on a roundup before.”
    â€œIt’s only one cow,” Jennifer said.
    â€œIt’s a bull,” Rhodes said. “There’s a difference.”
    â€œI know that. Here he comes.”
    Rhodes looked. Sure enough, the bull was almost at the entrance, and Rhodes still didn’t have a plan. He didn’t have a rope, not that he’d have been able to lasso the bull even if he had one. If Alton Boyd could catch up, maybe he could do it, but even if he could, the bull might just drag him along with it.
    Rhodes walked almost to where the entrance met the highway, prepared to stop the bull somehow. He’d wave his arms and yell, but what he hoped was that the bull wouldn’t turn. It didn’t have any reason to. It could just keep on going straight,